Reversions of Reality
by Commander Copyright
Summary: When Ashley left John Shepard behind on the dying Normandy, she left the best part of herself behind too.
1. Chapter 1

Reversions of Reality

Authors Notes:

As you may have guessed from the description, this fic takes place from Ashley's point of view during and after the destruction of the Normandy. Please note, that despite the similarities, this is _not_ the same Commander Shepard that was in my other fic, 'Defining Luck'.

Just so everyone knows, I don't have the best track record for finishing my fics. Assuming that not all the reviews are flame-mails, I'll try to go all the way though with it. But I make no guarantees that you won't be left hanging.

****M****

It took exactly four seconds for the universe to go from fine all the way straight down to hell.

Her only warning was the tactical alert lights coming on, and Joker's voice yelling "brace for evasive maneuvers!" over the com. Then what felt like a hundred-ton sledgehammer slammed into the Normandy. Bulkheads blew out, crewmen were thrown like rag dolls and the lights went out. They came back on – partially – a second later, illuminating the carnage.

Had this situation occurred a few months before, Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams' first move would have been to find out what the hell was going on, then to figure where her talents could best help remedy the situation. Now though, there was only one thought in her mind.

_Shepard_.

Explosions ripped through the walls, crew running in the opposite direction made the going tricky, but as she frantically searched through the corridors of the dying ship, she saw what she was looking for. He was standing in front of the console at the end of the sleeping area, fully armored, looking for all the world like there was nothing wrong, like the Normandy was not falling apart around him.

"Shepard!" she yelled as she ran up to him. He finished tapping whatever it was into the console, then turned around, pulling on his helmet as he did so.

"The distress beacon is ready for launch" he said, calm as ever, as though he was just telling her that their next stop was the citadel. For whatever reason, it helped calm Ashley somewhat too.

"Will the Alliance get here in time?" she asked as she yanked on her own helmet and locked the seal. Another blast knocked them both off balance, and the two grabbed onto each other, trying to keep on their feet. Shepard turned, grabbed onto one of the sleeper pods, then pulled out a fire extinguisher and tossed it to her.

"The Alliance won't abandon us," he said. "We just need to hold on."

Ashley turned to the closest sleeper pod. Unlike the others, it was closed. Was someone trapped inside? She sprayed the foam at the nearest flames, so that she could get the thing open. "Joker's still up in the cockpit, he won't abandon ship" she yelled over her shoulder. She knew that because every hotshot pilot she met would stay with their craft, preferring to go down with it rather than go. "I'm not leaving either" she finished as she managed to pry the pod open. Empty.

"I need you to get the crew onto the evac shuttles." The Commander's voice came from right next to her. He took the fire extinguisher from her hands. "I'll take care of Joker."

What? No, she wouldn't leave. There wasn't really much she could do for the crew. This was Shepard playing the hero, trying to get Ashley to leave so that she wouldn't be in the line of fire. This wasn't about the crew, she knew that he was just trying to protect her. She didn't want to be protected. She wanted to stand with him. She had told Shepard that she loved him, she didn't say such things lightly.

"John…" she said, pleadingly, as he checked another pod for signs of life.

"Ashley, go" his helmeted head turned towards her. She saw his eyes, they were filled with more emotion, and more meaning, than she believed could possibly be contained in a glance. "Now."

An order. Not from one soldier to another, or as a Lieutenant Commander to a Gunnery chief, but just as John Shepard to Ashley Williams. She had never been able to question his orders, not even now.

"Aye, aye."

She turned, and she didn't look back. She ran, and she ran away from the man who was the most important thing in her life. When she reached the escape pods, she didn't really hear or feel herself rushing the crew into them. When Crewman Helen Lowe was killed by an explosion, she just prayed that Shepard wouldn't meet the same fate.

When every seat but one was taken, she vaulted into it. Every fiber of her being screamed to get back out, get back to the Commander.

She hit the eject button.

**M**

There were no words suitable to describe how she felt during the wait. For approximately half an hour, there was no radio contact, no way of finding out what was going on outside. For that half hour, Ashley had no way of knowing if Commander Shepard was alive or dead.

Silence pervaded. Apart from Ashley, there was Doctor Chakwas and a handful of other crewmen. The Gunnery Chief supposed that she should be thankful they were still alive, but concern for Shepard was at the forefront of her mind.

At last, the evac shuttle's radio crackled and a man who identified himself as the com officer of the SSV Boston asked if there was anyone alive. Ashley responded, saying that everyone else in her pod was alive and well, but that she didn't know the status of any other survivors. She didn't say that she didn't know if anyone else was alive at all. She couldn't bear the thought for long.

In a few minutes, she felt gravity slowly return to the pod, likely signaling that the Boston had drawn them into their cargo bay. Ten minutes after that, the _thump thump thump_ of someone outside banging on the hatch indicated that it was time to open the pod.

Ashley hit the release, paused just long enough to confirm that the man outside was indeed in an Alliance uniform, then sprang out and scanned the bay. Five other shuttles lay on the deck, but only hers was open.

_Shepard_.

If the Commander was in any of the pods, it would be the bridge shuttle, with Joker. She ran, ignoring the crewman who asked if she was all right. The first pod opened contained Engineer Adams, Tali, and a few others from the engineering deck. She moved on. The second had Garrus and Liara. And so on, until she was helping pry open the last shuttle, which hadn't opened on its own.

A minute trying to find the emergency release, another few minutes cutting the hatch when the release was found to be damaged, and Ashley managed to rip off a portion of the hatch. As soon as there was an opening, Joker's head popped out.

"Joker?" she said, both as confirmation, and hoping he could tell her something – anything.

"Go back!" the man yelled. "We gotta go back! Shepard's out there!"

"Whoa, what?" one of the techs asked.

"Shepard!" Joker yelled again. "He got me in here, I saw him getting blown out, we have to find him!"

Ashley's heart clenched.

**M**

The search lasted seven hours. Debris was combed, scanners operated on maximum capacity, and Ashley hovered around the bridge, waiting for news. Captain Towers had politely suggested that she head down to medbay and get herself checked along with the rest of the surviving Normandy crew.

She had less than politely refused.

The Gunnery Chief supposed she should be grateful that Towers hadn't kicked her off the bridge, but she couldn't. That, along with her sense of physical and mental exhaustion, was pushed to the back of her mind.

She waited.

Probes and the few fighters the Boston carried continued to search. So far, nothing.

Ashley could feel eyes on her. The bridge crew undoubtedly wondered what was up with her. She didn't care. She had to stay, had to keep waiting.

At seven hours, two minutes and thirteen seconds, a man came up to the bridge, clutching something in his hand. Ashley watched out of the corner of her eye as he held it out to the captain, and they spoke in hushed voices for a few seconds. Then the crewman handed the object to the captain, saluted and left. Towers stood there for a moment, turned and caught Ashley's eye. She turned fully to the man as he stepped up to her.

"Here," he said, as he held his hand out. "Do you know what this is?" he asked. Williams examined the object, and with a chill, realized what it was.

"It's a…" she stopped, trying to contain her rising panic. "It's a piece of Commander Shepard's armor." More specifically, it was the shoulder guard from a piece of standard-issue Alliance Onyx armor. Recognizable because of the red stripe N7 operatives always had emblazoned on their right arm.

The captain nodded. "Yes, it is. It has the Commander's DNA on it, judging from the damage, whatever did this – an explosion, or shrapnel – would have penetrated all the way down to muscle tissue, probably in more than one location." Ashley looked up, horror welling up inside of her. "Barring an act of God" the captain continued. "If Commander Shepard wasn't killed instantly, he suffocated, probably within seconds."

No, no she wouldn't – _wouldn't_ accept this. "Shepard's always been able to survive impossible odds" she grit out. "He could survive this."

Towers looked at her with an expression suggesting that she was insane. She didn't care. "That's not possible, Chief Williams. And even if it was, Commander Shepard's life support would have failed approximately two hours ago. There's no other reasonable conclusion I can draw." The captain took a deep breath. "He's dead."

And just like that, Ashley Williams' universe fell apart.

****M****

Sooo… Hate it? Love it? Think it needs some work? Think it needs to be tried over again? Think I should keep going? Think I should stuff my head into a barrel of voraciously hungry space hamsters? I'm game, whatever you think I should do.


	2. Chapter 2: Recriminations

Disclaimer: Should have stuck one of these on the last chapter, so this applies to _all_ chapters. I own nothing related to Mass Effect, apart from the games. I do not claim to own anything, I am not making any money from this piece of fan literature.

Please don't sue me.

Recriminations

****M****

_My fault._

The thought kept circulating through her head. Over, and over and over.

_My fault._

Ashley sat numbly in one of a line of chairs. Joker, Doctor Chakwas, Engineer Adams, Garrus, Tali and Liara were next to her. All of them were facing a desk, with the soon-to-be-promoted-to-council-member Captain Anderson behind it. He looked tired, dispirited. She felt a thousand times worse than he felt. Questions had been asked and answered.

When would another recovery effort be launched? Never, though Anderson would like another search organized, the fact was that Commander Shepard was dead, and only so much in the way of resources could be put into finding a corpse, no matter how noble the man had been.

Who was behind it? No one knew, sensor logs retrieved from the Normandy's black box had painted a picture of a ship unknown to anyone in Citadel space.

What would be done about the Reapers, now that the man who had taken it upon himself to stop them was gone? Anderson said he would try to get the Council and the Alliance organized, that he would make sure Shepard's sacrifice wouldn't be in vain.

Through the whole thing, Ashley remained silent. She felt as though someone had reached into her very soul and ripped out every thought and emotion that was even remotely positive.

_My fault._

It _was_ her fault. She should have stayed with him. Maybe she could have protected him, somehow kept him from suffocating to death into the cold dark. No one had even tried to deny that thought. No one had gone up and reassured her with empty platitudes. For all anyone else knew, she was just another shell-shocked member of his crew, trying to cope with the sudden loss.

_My fault._

Ashley hadn't really been paying much attention through the whole debriefing. The main fact for her was that John was dead. She did, however, hear Captain Anderson give a dismissal. She stood up and turned towards the door. Leaving without a salute, or any other form of recognition was a serious breach of decorum, but she didn't really care. She didn't even know where she was going.

"Chief Williams, wait a moment" the Captain suddenly addressed her. She halted, turned, and watch the others file past. She tried to come up with a reason why she should feel annoyed, irritated, infuriated, that he hadn't just let her leave. She couldn't, she couldn't come up with a reason to care. She mechanically sat back in her chair and waited.

Anderson sighed and leaned back. "How are you holding up?" he asked. Ashley blinked, surprised that he would have her stay to ask her such a personal question. She answered "I'm… holding, Sir. Why?"

The Captain regarded her with a long, penetrating look. It made her feel a little uncomfortable, though she knew that, had she more mental energy to work with, she would be squirming in her seat. She wasn't used to being scrutinized in this manner by anyone other than a drill sergeant. Or John.

_My fault._

Anderson watched her for a few more moments, until she almost _was_ squirming, then he spoke. "I understand that the Commander's death is hard for you."

Oh, _here_ it was. But why was the Captain giving _her_ the whole 'it's not your fault' speech?

Ashley stayed silent, waiting for Anderson to continue. As she waited, a suspicion came to her mind. Could he know? No, it wasn't possible.

"After their debriefing is finished," Anderson continued. "The rest of the Normandy's crew" _surviving crew _"will be given leave, then reassigned. You are, as well."

Ashley nodded numbly. She felt a little conflicted. On one hand, staying on active duty might distract her, keep her busy. On the other hand, being able to go back to her family, to her mother and younger sisters…

It occurred to her that she had another option: She could simply _stop_.

No, that wasn't an option. Quite apart from her faith, there was too much riding on her to just give up.

Her faith, odd. During the search, she couldn't remember praying once. She couldn't remember pleading with God to bring John back alive. It hadn't even crossed her mind. She resolved to pray every day, if not for his safe return, for his safe transition.

The distraught marine suddenly realized that the Captain was speaking again.

"If you need it," he said softly. "I'll have your leave extended indefinitely, until you're ready." She frowned.

"Sir… thank you, but… why?"

Anderson held her gaze. "Because… I've been where you are now. I understand."

His words flew right past her for a moment, then she caught their significance.

Oh god,

He really _did_ know.

_My fault._

**M**

The first time Ashley Williams had seen the presidium, she had had the suspicion that the people who owned it were hiding something. Now it was a ruined shadow of what it had once been. The council, politicians that they were, were now spending exorbitant amounts of money restoring it. Ashley found a bench that had survived the carnage intact, and sat down. All the bodies had been removed as soon as it was considered safe to do so. She remembered spending some time helping C-Sec hunt down the remaining geth while the Normandy was being prepped for its next mission.

Its _last_ mission.

Her throat clenched, and she quickly tried to shift her train of thought elsewhere. She failed.

Ashley buried her face in her hands, and was immediately wracked with a fit of silent sobbing. Tears ran down her face, the first she had shed since the fact that John wouldn't be coming back had fully registered. There was no one around to witness her loss of composure. Even if there had, she wasn't sure she couldn't have held it back.

On the other side of the presidium, a turian C-Sec officer glanced over, took note of what he saw, then returned to work. There was nothing unusual about one more grieving human. A sobbing, frail-looking woman in an Alliance shipboard uniform was unrecognizable as the armored, fearsome soldier who had fought alongside Commander Shepard in that last battle against Saren.

After a few minutes, the sobbing had been reduced to a sort of inconsistent hiccupping. The tears had stopped, and if she cared to look in a mirror, she would have seen that her eyes were red.

Ashley slowly raised her head, lowered her hands and straightened to a more upright posture. Finally taking a good look around, her military instincts kicked in, telling her that she was a vulnerable target, sitting there without any armor, any backup. She got up and walked back the way she came.

She decided that she might as well take up Anderson's offer of extended leave. Going back to her family might be what she needed.

On the other hand, all her younger sisters might find it disconcerting if their older sister came back to _them_ with emotional difficulties. Especially Sarah.

She would be horrified, Ashley realized. After all, Sarah had sent that message, the one were she had teasingly pointed out that Shepard was cute. The message that he had inadvertently eavesdropped on.

Ashley closed her eyes, fighting back tears.

That irrational, self-destructive, human response to loss, the thought that it was _her fault_ returned. No one would blame her for John's death, no one would cast accusing glances at her. No one had to.

_My fault._

****M****

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get around to this, and for the small amount of material I have finally posted. My excuses are as follows: One, I have had several new games in the last few months that have consumed much of my time. Starcraft II being among them. Two, I have several other FF projects running, as well as several original science-fiction stories. Three, writers block.

See you sometime next year, when I finally get another chapter out.


End file.
